


Inject the Venom

by dracox_serdriel



Series: Another Chance at the Brass Ring, or Season 9 Fan Fiction [19]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 09, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angels, Big Secrets, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Crosshairs, Demons Afoot, Destiel - Freeform, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Sam Winchester/Original Female Character, F/M, Gen, Het, Judah Initiative, M/M, Men of Letters, Mild Language, Murder Most Foul, Phoenixes, Rescue, Revelation is a Bitch, Skeevy Witches, Slash, Thule Society, Transformation by Fire, Vampires, Warzone, Witches, Zombies, reluctant allies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:00:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracox_serdriel/pseuds/dracox_serdriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchesters find themselves stuck in the cross-hairs of a growing war while on a case involving zombies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heart and Hope

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoilers** : Through episode 08x20 Pac-Man Fever

**Clayton, Delaware**. It was ten at night. There must be something wrong. Esther knew it because Joshua didn't call, and he never failed to pick up the phone. Not once in fourteen years of marriage.

"Sorry ma'am," the police officer said, "but until he's gone for twenty-four hours, there's nothing we can do."

"You don't understand," Esther said, "he always communicates where he is. The only reason he wouldn't is if something happened – "

"Ma'am," the police officer interrupted. "You can file a report if he doesn't turn up in the next eighteen hours. I'm sorry."

With that, the police left. Ester dug through her husband's contacts, desperate for anyone who could help her. She finally came across a secondary schedule with a completely different list of contacts. One of them was labeled FOR UNEXPECTED EMERGENCIES. 

Esther took the phone and dialed out.

"Hello?" a man's voice said. 

"Is this Aaron? Aaron Bass?"

"Who am I speaking to?"

"My name is Esther Cassirer," she said. "My husband, Josh Cassirer, is missing, and – please tell me you can help me."

"Okay, Esther. Tell me what's going on – "

But Esther wasn't listening to him. The back door creaked once, then twice, and a third time, as if left ajar. She turned her head and saw – 

"He's here," she said to herself, but her mouth was still over the phone.

"Who? Who is there?" Aaron asked.

Three men in dark suits lurched towards her. She recognized all of them, but something about how they sauntered moved, or maybe how they stared, it was as if they were sleepwalking.

Vaguely aware of Aaron's question, she said, "All of them – all the missing – "

She didn't finish her sentence. One of the men struck her with one of the iron pokers from the fireplace. 

"Esther? Can you hear me?" Aaron asked as her screams came across the wire. "Esther! Esther?"

 

 **Lebanon, Kansas**. Once upon a time, Kevin Tran lived with the two most astounding hunters in history. They hacked, slashed, impaled, and incinerated any supernatural threat in their way. Now he spent his days looking for cases in old hunter's journals or on the internet while the Winchesters immersed themselves in pure domesticity. 

Kevin realized that it wasn't fair to judge them for taking some personal time to be happy. He'd certainly done it himself, but the sight of Dean in his "Kiss the Chef" apron or Sam decked out in cleaning gear made the Prophet feel like the fifth wheel of a bad comedy show.

"You look unhappy," Dodge remarked as she sat down at the breakfast table with him.

"Why are you called Dodge?" Kevin asked. "I mean, it's a nickname, right?"

"Yeah," she laughed. "You know how people say things like, 'Danger is my middle name?' Well, when I was a kid, I was really good at Dodgeball. It was my favorite game, actually, I wanted to play it all the time. But I was like four at the time, so I didn't quite get it right. I kept saying, 'Dodge is my name' instead of 'middle name.' And, it kind of stuck."

"Huh."

"What?" 

"I guess I thought, an FBI Agent with the name Dodge, that's gotta be a story about dodging bullets or fire or something."

Dodge laughed. "I've been shot. Twice. So I'd be 'Target' if my nickname came from the FBI."

Kevin smiled.

"What're you up to?" she asked over her cereal.

"Well, since I've gotta hide out here, I'm trying to figure out the new forces at play. Maybe figure out what's going on."

"Really? How?"

"Mostly, just looking for cases," Kevin replied sadly. 

"You sound glum," Dodge said. "How about I hook you into my system? Of course, you'll have to promise not to use this information for anything else."

"Like what?"

"Organized crime," she replied. "That kind of thing."

"Scout's honor."

"Okay, I've set up a special filter on a series of alerts related to crime reports. Sam keeps telling me it's not precise. Lots of non-supernatural cases wind up there because the case report is incomplete or because the guy who filed it used spooky words."

"Hey, if it's something that can show me current crime reports, I'm in," Kevin said. He hadn't been this excited in weeks.

Dodge gave Kevin her laptop, which boasted the name SPOOKY. 

"Spooky?" he asked. 

"My personal laptop," she explained. "I had to find a way to keep it separate from my work. Spooky was Fox Mulder's nickname on the X-Files. Figured that'd be good."

"Okay, how does this work?" 

After a few minutes of dabbling, a new alert came through. FOUR PEOPLE FOUND DEAD IN CLAYTON, DELAWARE. 

"Hey," Kevin said as he opened it. "Looks like they found four bodies, shipped them off to the morgue. Then three of the bodies vanished and the coroner and one assistant were badly injured."

"Yeah, that one came through because of vanishing bodies, but it's probably just someone stealing cadavers. Maybe trying to get rid of evidence," Dodge said. "Probably not zombies."

"Normally I would agree, but this report says the coroner and the assistant were attacked by two of the John Does after they were presumed dead."

"There could– "

"After they had compelted the autopsies. So if it was some kind of equipment failure, or weird tetrodotoxin thing, they'd still be dead from the medical examiner cutting them open."

"So, zombies?" Dodge asked. "Really? Or just creepy good body snatchers?"


	2. Go in Hard

**Clayton, Delaware**. Detective Seth Lambstone drummed his fingers impatiently as he listened to the other man on the phone.

"Yes, sir, I understand," he said.

Lambstone took plenty of crap. He expected as much, given his unusual last name, but the FBI swooping in on his big break in this case was just one kick too many. The two men checked out, though, so what else could he do?

"All right," he said to Sam and Dean, "your boss confirmed your assignment."

Sam made a mental note to send Garth a present for running the phones for them.

"Thank you, Lambstone, now we'd like to take the witness into custody," Sam said. 

"Right, I'll get the paperwork – "

"Lambstone," Dean said. "That's an, uh, unusual name, isn't it?"

Lambstone bit his lip. "My mother's last name was Stone. My father's was Lamb. When they got married they decided they didn't want to hyphenate so they just combined them, hence Lambstone. Any other questions in regards to my name?"

"My partner always does that," Sam offered as apology. "Asks about names. Nicknames especially. Don't mind him."

"Officer Murphy, could you please get the witness out of holding?"

"Why did you decide to hold Mr. Bass to begin with?" Sam asked.

"He was the last person the victim, Esther Cassirer, spoke to. Coroner put time of death around the time of the phone call."

"So he was on the phone with her when she died?"

"As much as we can tell," Lambstone replied.

"Something tells me you think there's more to his story," Sam said, picking up on the detective's tone. 

"We haven't been able to pinpoint his location," Lambstone explained. "He was on a very high-tech cell phone, the kind the Marshal service uses. They ping between towers."

"So what?" Dean asked.

"He was already in town when Esther called him," Lambstone replied. "Since we can't pinpoint his location, we can't be sure if he's involved."

"Is there any indication that he's did this?" Sam asked. 

Lambstone shook his head. "He has a weird history. A really weird history."

"This is Mr. Bass," Murphy said unceremoniously dragging him out of the other room. 

Aaron Bass seemed the same as the last time they'd seen him. When he saw who the FBI Agents were, his eyes bulged a bit, but he did his best to keep his expression blank. 

"Thank you, Officer Murphy," Sam said. "We're gonna get to the bottom of this, I promise."

Lambstone's grimace made it clear that he didn't want to give the case up, but he muttered a basic good luck goodbye to them before he sat down at his desk.

Once out in the parking lot, what small amount of poker face Aaron had finally slid off.

"Holy crap," he said. "How did you guys know I was here?"

"We didn't," Dean said. "We caught wind of this case, thought it might be a zombie thing."

"Fill us in on the way," Sam said, indicating the back seat of the Impala.

"Uh, can we make a stop?" Aaron asked as they all plopped into the car. 

"Where? Why?" Dean asked.

"I left my golem in the hotel room," Aaron admitted.

"How's that been going?" Sam asked.

Aaron considered his words. "You know. Since I've taken charge of him, officially, it's been better. In public, he's my cousin Adam now. I'm trying to, you know, finesse his people skills. Get him up to speed with this century."

"I know that dance," Dean commented mildly. "Any success?"

"A little. Trouble is, I'm not actually a rabbi."

"That's trouble?" Dean asked. "How?"

"The Judah Initiative was originally made up of rabbis, which gave them certain connections," Aaron explained. "They were in a position to help. I always end up looking sketchy. Clearly that detective guy thought I did something."

"So, you're like us," Sam said as Dean started the car. 

"Where we headed?" Dean asked.

 

After Aaron promised not to leave the room before they returned, Dean finally relented and agreed to meet up again after dinner. 

"I dunno, leaving him alone, after he's gotten himself on Lambstone's radar," Dean said. "We're not even sure what's going on."

Sam replied, "We have to check out the morgue slash crime scene. And the one body we have left. We can't be dragging him around with that detective in high alert."

The morgue was utter disarray. 

"Sure only three bodies did this?" Dean asked.

"Three autopsied bodies," Sam pointed out. "And I think that explains this."

Something had ripped the refrigerator used to house organs post-autopsy to shreds.

"So, zombies wake up, pissed they're missing their parts, and they rummage around to get their bits back," Dean said. "Sounds like what would I do."

"So many jokes," Sam replied. "Not enough time."

"Shut up."

"Who are you?" a small weedy man asked.

"I'm Agent Page," Dean said. "This is my partner, Agent Hoffer. FBI. Who are you?"

"I'm Edward Stevens," he replied. "I'm the interim coroner while Doctor Freedman is on medical leave."

"Ah, well, we're investigating this attack," Sam said. "What can you tell us?"

"To put it mildly, Esther Cassirer died of blunt force trauma," Edward said.

"And, uh, not mildly?" Dean asked.

"She was beaten to a pulp."

"Do you know what the weapon was?" Sam asked.

"Fire irons, three of them."

"Three of them?" Sam asked. 

"Yeah, fingerprints from the three other stiffs matched. So, theoretically, each of the men found dead at her house wielded one fire iron and beat her to death," Edward said, his voice full of hesitance.

"You sound less than convinced," Dean pointed out. "Why?"

"I assisted on the autopsies, and only one of the assailants, Joshua Cassirer, had died within twenty-four hours of Ms. Cassirer."

"Her husband?" Sam asked.

"Yes, and even his body showed signs of decomposition, or at the very least substantial dysfunction."

Sam's nerd brain went into overdrive. "What do you mean, substantial dysfunction? Specifically."

"If the organs were here, I could show you – "

"But they're not," Dean cut him off. "So just tell us."

Edward fumbled. "Atherosclerosis hardens the arteries. Severe enough cases present a catastrophic affect on the circulatory system. But these three bodies... it's like their blood had stopped, and their arteries were like rock. I've never seen anything like it."

"Have you identified the other bodies?" Sam asked.

"Technically, we haven't officially confirmed them," Edward replied. His lack of authority pissed Dean off. 

"But?" Dean prompted impatiently. 

"Well, someone matched the bodies to descriptions of missing person's reports filed in the last week," Edward stumbled. "Zachary Osterweil. His wife Karen filed the report, but the bodies disappeared before she could id him. And Benjamin Wolfson. Maya Wolfson, his wife, also filed a report – "

"But the bodies got up and walked away before a proper id," Sam cut in.

"We were told the coroner and an assistant were attacked," Dean said. "Any chance we could talk to them?"

"They're both still down at Mercy Grace General, and, uh, neither one of them was making a lot of sense. Trauma can do that to you," Edward replied. 

"Okay, can we see Ms. Cassirer's body?"

Edward nodded and unveiled her body. "We left it out here, since technically it's a crime scene."

He hadn't lied: Ms. Cassirer had been beaten to a pulp. At the very least, they kept hitting her well after she was dead. Unlike recent cases, though, the beating didn't seem super-human in nature.

"Did the police tag the murder weapons?" Dean asked.

"Honestly, I don't know," Edward replied. Something about him annoyed Sam. Both brothers existed more than a little pissed off.

 

Aaron paced in front of the beds in his motel room. He didn't like this at all. Zachary and Benjamin had connections to the remnant of the Judah Initiative. According to his grandfather's journals, and to his golem, Zachary's parents had provided the Initiative with cover stories and alibis. Benjamin had been among those who aided in the continuing sabotage of magical experiments after World War II. 

"Joshua Cassirer," Aaron repeated. 

"No," the golem spoke. "I've never heard of him before."

"Esther Cassirer, originally Esther Markowitz."

"Sarah Markowitz, and her children Samuel and Gideon, and their children, Jordan, Michael, Jacob, and Esther. They all aided the rabbis."

"Esther Cassirer. That's the connection," Aaron said, still pacing.

"You seem agitated," the golem pointed out.

"As soon as I try to activate the old contacts of the Initiative, people start dying in horrible ways," Aaron said. "Of course I'm agitated."

"Whatever's happening is not a result of your work," the golem dismissed. 

"How do you know that?"

"Because your work is to save lives, and you have not yet set anything in motion. Therefore there is nothing to retaliate against."

"Yeah, but maybe I stirred the pot enough to cause this."

The conversation was stopped by a strong knock on the door. The golem checked the peephole. 

"The Men of Letters are here," he said. 

"Let'em in."

"Woah, uh, hi," Dean said.

"Aaron. Golem," Sam said awkwardly.

"So, we checked out the morgue, and this thing's got zombies written all over it," Dean said. "Except that zombies don't usually recollect their organs."

"What does that mean?" Aaron asked.

"It means that whatever's going on involves dead people," Sam said, "no longer being dead. I think you're right. The Thule Society is at work here."


	3. Scratch like a Cat

Castiel kept watch over the war room. Dodge and Kevin both sat, heads down, asleep over whatever books or papers they'd been reading. The angel wasn't certain when they fell asleep, but he imagined they had because of exhaustion. Both of them had worked continuously for the past day or so. There was something very peaceful, quieting to Cas, in this moment. He used to watch over Sam and Dean as they slept in odd motel rooms or at Bobby Singer's old house, and he discovered that acting as a sentry for sleeping warriors cleared his mind of clutter.

Still, he realized the scenario was odd. Two individuals asleep, side-by-side at a table.

Dodge shook, as if a sudden cold cascaded down her spine. Her body trembled, and her eyes fluttered open, white and gray. She was having a vision.

In the time Cas's attention fell upon Dodge, Kevin began to shake. His response was more elegant, but nonetheless, he seemed to be having a seizure. The angel couldn't interfere, but watching them both tremor out of control became unsettling. 

Briefly, he stood between them and tried to enter their dreams, but the way was shut.

After a few feverish moments, they both awoke, alert. Cas saw that Dodge's body temperature was abnormally high and her pain level was very high, so the angel touched her shoulder and healed her. 

"What the hell was that?" Kevin blurted, confusion ripe in his eyes. 

"I believe you both just had a vision," Cas said mildly. 

"You can say that again," Dodge remarked. "You okay?" she asked Kevin.

"Yeah, that's what they're like?" Kevin asked. 

"That one was particularly bad..."

"Still," Kevin replied. He turned to Cas, "Please tell me that won't be happening all the time."

"I don't know," the angel replied. "What did you see?"

"Uhm, I can't – I don't know," Dodge said lamely.

 

 **Smyrna, Delaware**. Elizabeth unlocked the front door and walked in on autopilot. Her day at the office had felt like three shifts rolled into one, and she needed something to eat. 

"Hey sweetie," she said to her boyfriend Goren.

"Liz, how was your day?" Goren asked.

"Long. You?"

"It was okay," he replied. 

Elizabeth dropped onto the couch and flipped on the television. She turned to put her feet up only to find the entire living room out of sorts. The coffee table had files spread over it. Every drawer was open, and even the trash had been tipped over.

"Goren!" she yelled. "What did you do to the living room?" 

"Nothing," he replied from the dining room. 

"Nothing my ass!" she said. "Get in here!"

She didn't look at him as he dragged his feet into the room. Goren had a habit of leaving a mess, but this was too much. 

"What do you have to say for yourself?" she asked, finally pivoting to meet his eye. 

It wasn't Goren. The man, whoever he was, was haggard, faint-white, and clearly injured. 

"Who are you?" she asked. "How did you get in here? Are you alright?"

Her question was answered when Goren raced into the room, pursued by another pasty-white, disheveled assailant. His face was pure terror, and a large welt on his arm showed he had already fended off an attack.

"Run! Lizzy! Run!" 

His warning reminded her to move, and she ducked a swinging baseball bat just in time. The attack came from a third assailant. She spun onto her side and delivered a knee-shattering sidekick to the bat-wielding maniac. She scrambled for the weapon, just in case, only to find the man wasn't stopped by a broken joint. He struggled, forcing her to jab and strike until he finally stopped moving all together. 

Her hand ached, and she could hear Goren struggling with the other two. She wanted to help him, but something was making her bleed. It was a small, black stone. It had fallen from her attacker when she hit him. She palmed it and stood up to address the others – 

"Run!" Goren repeated. "Go, run! Lizzy! Go get help!"

She could see it in his eyes. He was losing the fight, and he wasn't going to make it out of here. 

"Goren – "

One of men charged at her, and with a sickening CRACK! she whirled the bat at him.

"Go! I mean it!" he bellowed.

Elizabeth ran from her own house out the back door, over the fence, and to the neighbor's door.

 

Dean and Sam parked the Impala. Aaron drove a large black sedan that looked more like an FBI-issue vehicle, but they agreed he should keep it to hide the golem in the back seat. Lambstone was already there, speaking with Elizabeth, so Aaron waited in his car. 

"Gentlemen," Lambstone said to the brothers, "this is Elizabeth Mills. Ms. Mills, these are – "

"Agent Page," Dean said.

"Agent Hoffer," Sam said.

"Hi," she replied meekly. 

"I've already questioned her, and I'm going to speak with the neighbor who called it in."

"We'll make this quick," Dean said. 

"We understand that your boyfriend died in the assault?" Sam asked.

"Yes, Goren. Goren Timmons."

Dean asked, "Did he live here with you?"

She nodded. 

"You were attacked, too. Did you get the impression that the people attacking you were targeting you personally?"

"No, I didn't," she replied weakly.

"What about Goren?" Dean asked. 

"Maybe. I mean, one of them tried to hit me with a baseball bat, the other two both – they both – " she couldn't finish her sentence. 

"Was there anything unusual about them?" Sam asked.

"Unusual?"

"Did they seem ill? Or in a trance? Did they say anything strange?" Sam asked.

"Or did anything else happen today, before the attack, that you remember being off?" Dean asked. He could tell she was under duress, so he added. "Ms. Mills, uh, Elizabeth. In cases like this, even the smallest detail can help us. So anything you can think of, even if it doesn't seem important."

She swallowed hard. "The one who attacked me, I broke his knee, and he kept fighting. I mean, beyond what a person should be able to do. It might've been drugs or something, but I had to hit him a lot. And, uh, when I came home, the living room was a mess. I thought Goren had been working and not cleaned up, but he didn't – he, uh, I don't think he did it. Earlier today, I thought someone was trying to peek into the windows - "

"When was that?" Dean asked.

"Uh, around nine a.m. Usually, I'm at work by then, but I had a later morning. I figured it was just one of the neighborhood kids, but I didn't really get a good look."

"You said you had to use a lot of force to subdue one of the victims," Sam said. "Was there anything else about him that struck you as odd?"

She shifted her weight from one foot to another, but she didn't respond.

"Look, Elizabeth," Dean said, "we were called in because the other body found in your house, one Zachary Osterweil, was pronounced dead and autopsied yesterday. So, no matter how crazy whatever you saw, or smelled, or felt, trust me, we're ready for it."

"Already autopsied?" she asked. 

"That's right," Sam said. 

"So you're willing to accept that the man who attacked me was dead when he did so?" she asked.

"Obviously, he was animated somehow," Sam said. "But, yes, his body was already dead."

Elizabeth produced the small, black stone from her pocket. It was wrapped in a delicate, silk cloth. "This fell off of him when we were fighting. For some reason, when I wrapped it in my blessing cloth, he stopped."

"Blessing cloth?" Dean asked. "Is that a Shinto – "

"No," she cut him off. "It's - related to witchcraft."

"Spell craft?" Sam asked. "What kind?"

"Goren did a lot with healing and protection spells," she said. "And a lot of people thought he was crazy, but, I didn't. So he'd make me talismans and stuff like this."

"Can I see it?" Sam asked. 

She handed him the stone and cloth. Sam took his time inspecting it. 

"You didn't mention this to the detective, did you?" Dean asked.

"Goren was a good man, but plenty of people will think he was crazy, into the occult or something, if they knew about all his interest in the other-worldly. I don't want that. Please don't – "

"Trust me, we can keep a secret," Dean said. "You have anything, Agent Hoffer?"

"It seems to be similar to a spell box," Sam said. "When Goren gave this to you, what did he say about it?"

"Just that if I ever was worried about opening a door or picking something up. You know, if the handle might be hot, or if there might be something contagious on it, that I could use this to touch it safely."

"Huh," Sam said. "Pretty good work. Better than Bobby, even."

"Who's Bobby?" she asked.

"Uh, a guy who was an expert in weird and weird management," Dean replied. "Thank you for telling us about this. Can we keep it?"

"Uh, I guess."

"We're very sorry about your boyfriend," Sam said. "Agent Page," he added to Dean.

"Thank you, Elizabeth."

Dean grabbed the items from Sam's hand. "Let me show this to Aaron and the mud man. You check out the scene."

"Sounds good," Sam said, veering off toward the front door.

As soon as he entered the front door, the EMF reader went haywire. It spiked in the living room, forcing Sam to turn it off as to not attract attention. 

"Damn," Sam whispered as he caught sight of the room. 

Goren Timmons's body was beaten, just as Esther Cassirer's, well beyond dead. Blood covered the couch, the coffee table, the walls. Trash and papers littered the room. Elizabeth seemed convinced that Goren hadn't made the mess, so maybe the undead companions had been searching for something.

"Did you get anything out of the girlfriend?" Lambstone asked.

"Apparently, this guy was hard to drop. She said she broke his knee," Sam said. "And he continued to attack."

"Huh," Lambstone said, hovering over the body apart from Goren. "This guy has been dead for days."

Sam took a hard look at the man. The autopsy staples from the Y-incisions had ripped away, and his skin hanged on him awkwardly, as if it wasn't really his. Sam stooped down to examine some dark black goo on the ground. He took a sample of it with a cotton swab – 

"You got something?" Lambstone asked. 

"I dunno," Sam replied. "Just something that isn't blood."

"Maybe it's bile?"

"Maybe," Sam said. "Forensics should check it out. In the meantime, does it look like someone was digging around for something?"

"You mean before the attack?"

"Yeah."

Lambstone's eyes took the scene in. "Actually, now that you mention it, the place does look more tossed than trashed."

"Do we know anything about Goren Timmons?"

Lambstone shook his head. "He worked as a personal trainer. Lived here for two years. The prelim checked him out. Nothing fishy, yet."

"Let me know if you find anything, I'll see if we can dig anything up."

"You seem unsurprised," Lambstone said.

Sam tilted his head. Part of him wanted to laugh; he must be the spitting image of Castiel.

"I mean, a really, really dead guy here is on the ground. Some woman proficient at the martial arts claimed he attacked her, along with two others we can't find, and you're just, fine about it."

"You think she had something to do with this?"

"I think that makes more sense than the Zombie Apocalypse."

Sam shook his head. "I'm betting you'll find finger prints for Wolfson and Cassirer, the two other dead/undead guys, on top of other evidence." Sam sensed Lambstone's skepticism, so he added, "Just a feeling, of course. Also, if I was going to make a cover story for a murder, it wouldn't involved zombies."

Lambstone laughed. "The coroner wants to take the bodies, so are you done here?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "You're putting the bodies under twenty-four hour surveillance, right? Giving the coroner two armed guards?"

"Seriously?" Lambstone said. 

"The last coroner is still in the hospital," Sam said. "Along with his assistant. And with any luck, after the autopsy, someone will try to body snatch this one again, and we'll catch him red-handed."

Lambstone watched as Sam left, and his curiosity pitched. Carrying an EMF reader might be normal on a case involving electronics, but as far as he could tell, there was no indication of that. Maybe the undead, reanimated bodies were controlled with some kind of proprietary or secret-government technology. Either way, he didn't like their secrecy, and he knew something odd was going on.

The detective would just have to follow them.

 

The Winchesters stopped at a diner a few miles away, and Aaron and his golem joined them.

"What did you find?" Aaron said. "Besides the stone."

"I think this could be a ghost thing," Sam said, casually sliding the cotton swab over to him. "Ectoplasm near the body."

"Ghosts?" Dean said. "I liked it better when this was zombies."

"That actually makes sense," Aaron replied. "I mean, with the stone."

"The boy is right," Adam the golem pronounced.

"So, what's this stone?" Sam asked.

"The symbol on it - it's a Was scepter. It's a symbol of power, control, and in this case, it allows a sorcerer to claim a body for a ghost. You can burn the ghost's remains, and it doesn't matter. It's like the host body becomes the ghost's new tie to earth. I mean, until the stone is removed from the body and stopped by other spell work," Aaron explained.

"How do you know all this?" Sam asked.

"I've been teaching myself from my grandfather's journals, and the notes from the other members. They've dealt with this kind of necromancer before."

"You think this is the Thule Society?" Dean asked. 

"I'm not sure, but I do know that spirits that have someone casting this kind of spell work for them are immune to things like salt rounds, fire, iron – pretty much everything," Aaron said. "The only way to banish them is to find the necromancer and, well, you know."

"Awesome."

Sam let out a huff that might've been a laugh. "Twenty bucks says Elizabeth Mills knows more than she told us. She just happened to grab a necromancer's stone in something that could contain its power?" Sam indulged in shaking his head. "Lambstone was right."

"Goren Timmons," Aaron began, "he was on my radar."

"Why?"

"He is big in certain circles. Mostly in herbal spell craft, but he also trafficked in unusual objects, like this silk cloth his girlfriend had," Aaron said. "I was planning on contacting him. I feel like this sorcerer is pulling names out of my head."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked. 

"I mean, the other three people, I contacted in the last week. But I hadn't approached Timmons yet - "

Sam slid a pad of paper across the table. "Write down the other names."

"Uh – okay – "

As if piecing together a plan he had all along, Sam continued, "Dean and I can check out the other names. Now we know what we're looking for, we should be able to push ahead. You and Adam here should follow Elizabeth."

Aaron balked. "Wait, no, this is my fight – "

"A Prophet of the Lord sent us here," Sam cut him off. "I believe that officially makes it our fight, too. And for all we know, Elizabeth might've been the primary target of the last attack, so we can't just leave her in protective custody with the police. They can't help her, not like you can. And she knows Dean and I as Feds. You can talk to her as someone in the loop with what her boyfriend did."

Aaron could tell Sam was appealing to his ego, but it still worked. "Okay, Adam and I will take point on that. Enjoy your dinner."

 

Lambstone watched as the two men exited the diner, leaving the two FBI Agents inside. He debated if he should stay and follow the Feds or tail the strangers getting into a black sedan.

A ball of pure, white light interrupted his thoughts as it touched down nearby. As if his surroundings became imperceptible, Detective Lambstone sat alone in his car, adrift somewhere in the wide universe.

"Seth Andrew Lambstone," the white light said.

"What? What are you?" he asked.

The light evaporated, and in its place stood a beautiful man with shaggy blond hair and a gruff disposition. "I am an angel," he said. "An angel that was once human, like you. Call me Harvelle."

Lambstone laughed. "Right, an angel."

The man put his hand on Lambstone's shoulder, and he felt his collarbone shift. 

"Six years ago you suffered a broken collar bone from a mallet," Harvelle said. "You didn't get appropriate medical care for it, because you were protecting someone. You knew if you reported her for the attack, she would end up dead on the street. So you lied and said it was an accident, and the insurance wouldn't cover treatment for it. Now that woman works as a councilor, and you have had chronic pain as a cost."

"How did you – "

"Know about this? Or heal your collarbone and remove the scar tissue from the area?" Harvelle asked. 

"What? What did you do to me?"

"I healed you. There's no reason for you to hurt for saving an innocent," Harvelle replied. "Like I said, I'm an angel."

"Why should I believe you?"

"You've believed in angels from a child, why stop now?"

"And why is an angel visiting me?"

"Because you are important, and getting off the path."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"These two FBI Agents you're following? They'll lead you to your death."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, just the truth. They will stop the killer. They are very good at what they do. There is no reason for you to die."

"You expect me to just drop this for a guy with a few magic tricks up his sleeve?" Lambstone asked.

"No. I just ask that you return to your job, police work, and don't tail the agents. All your instincts agree with me – this is unnecessarily dangerous or you, and not for the right reasons."

"I'm having a stroke or something."

"Then go to the hospital. Just leave these two men be."

Harvelle vanished. The Impala, and the two FBI Agents, were gone. 

"Damn it!" Lambstone cursed.


	4. Never Give What You Can't Take Back

**Clayton, Delaware**. Sam slept soundly in the bed farthest from the door, but Dean remained wide-awake, counting sheep to the beat of his heart. He didn't realize how difficult it would be to sleep alone after spending three weeks at the Bunker with Castiel. Normally he would chide himself for being a girl, but he was too happy to care.

His mind kept drifting back to the not-zombies, or the ghost-hosts, or whatever the hell they were. The last time members of the Thule Society attacked, they nearly had their asses handed to them, even with the golem on their side. Was Aaron really up for this? He didn't seem like the kind of man who could pull the trigger.

Ninety-eight sheep leaped over his beating heart. They jumped the track of Dean's thoughts, and he slipped under the veil of consciousness into sleep.

 

Alexander Neumann stood under the cover of the trees, out in the moonlight. Had anyone took the time to look back at him, they would see little more than glinting eyes. Neumann waved his hand, and the bodies of Benjamin Wolfson and Joshua Cassirer appeared. 

"Alex," Wolfson said. "What is it?"

"The two men investigating our movements are asleep in that hotel room," Neumann said. "They've spoken with our friend and his pet made of clay. And they also happen to have my possession stone. I think it would be best if they didn't wake up, don't you?"

 

The phone rang over and over again. It stopped after six times, going to voicemail, but no one left a message. It rang again. Dean rolled towards the phone. The clock read 3:01 AM. Seriously? 

"What?" Dean barked. 

"Dean, you gotta wake up! Now!"

"Dodge?" 

"Something's watching you, and it's gonna make its move – "

Dean heard the floorboards creak outside their door. 

"I'm up," Dean said. "Thanks." He dropped the phone on its catch and grabbed the hilt of the shotgun under his pillow. For good measure, he reached along the other pillow, where he kept is machete. 

The door bust open, and Dean rotated, firing the shotgun straight towards the intruder, who took the hit and flew back into his companion.

"Sammy! Wake up!" Dean barked. 

Sam pulled out his handgun and long knife, but his movements were sluggish. He was far from awake. Dean stood up in nothing more than his damn boxers no less, and reloaded his shotgun. Iron rounds didn't seem to work. Maybe brass would have some effect? 

Bang! Bang! Sam shot at one of the bodies, but it took the hits with nothing more than some kickback.

"Silver's useless," Sam said.

"Iron is, too."

The body that once belonged to Benjamin Wolfson made a headlong run at them, and Dean sidestepped him, bringing his machete across once, twice at a devastating angle. His head flew off and the body floundered.

"That'll do," Dean said, firing the brass rounds into the oncoming body. Again, the physical hits jolted the body, but it flinched and kept going. 

Meanwhile, the headless body got to its feet and dropped Sam, first to his knees, then landed a blow to the back of his head. 

"Hey!" Dean yelled, shoving the second body away. He vaguely remembered something about the stone. He needed to find the stone –

Crack! His own, unloaded shotgun whipped across his back, hitting his kidney. He fell to the ground next to Sam. He twisted around and shot the thing in the eye with the last of his brass rounds. No affect.

Zombies. Dean never thought that'd be what did him in – 

A roar broke the air, and Adam the golem dropped the first body, throwing him against the doorframe. He pinned the headless body effortlessly to the wall, but the host that once was Cassirer bolted. Aaron and Elizabeth nearly crashed into it, but the undead bastard escaped. 

"Let him go," Dean said. "Till we figure out how to gank his ass."

"Where's his head?" Elizabeth asked, as if she wasn't standing in a room with a decapitated body, two men in their boxers, and a golem. 

Aaron found it. He delicately picked it up and put it on the motel table.

"Dude, we eat off of that," Dean said before he checked on Sam.

Elizabeth took another cloth and ran it behind his left ear and then his right, finally producing another stone. The pinned body stopped moving. 

"We should burn his remains as soon as possible," she said. "Just in case."

"He okay?" Aaron asked Dean.

"Yeah, but he'll have a bad headache in the morning."

"What about you?" Aaron asked.

"I'll pee a little blood and be fine."

"Then maybe you should pack some stuff, put on some cloths," Elizabeth said, "because clearly someone knows you're here."

"I take it you're not some innocent girlfriend who knows nothing," Dean said dryly.

"And I take it you're not FBI Agents specializing in weird," Elizabeth said. 

Dean suddenly realized he was nearly naked, so he casually covered himself, bloody machete still in hand. "If you don't mind," Dean said. 

"Right," Aaron took her arm. "Let's take the stiff and burn him. Adam?"

 

Sam woke half way through the car ride.

"What the hell?" he asked. He saw he had on loose pajama bottoms and a big t-shirt. "What the hell?" he repeated.

"We were attacked by super zombies," Dean said. "I decapitated one of them, and he still brained your ass."

"And?"

"And, you should call and send Dodge some flowers or a new shotgun or whatever you give someone who just saved your ass from Nazi necromancer dicks."

"Huh?"

"She called. That's why I was awake before those things broke into the room."

"Okay, I can buy that. But Dean, what the hell am I wearing?"

"They were the only things you had packed that I could pull on you without...touching too much," Dean said. 

"Seriously?" Sam said. "Dude, didn't you change my diapers when I was a baby?"

"I could carry your ass back then, now you're taller than me, and shut up."

Sam laughed. "Where're we going?"

"Aaron's getting us to some safe house."

"Aaron has a safe house?" Sam repeated. "It's like the time I learned Garth had one. But weirder."

"He's been drumming up old JI contacts," Dean said. "So I guess this is one of them."

He parked behind the sedan. "Oh," Dean said, "that Elizabeth chick, she's in the know."

"Was she the one who attacked us?" Sam asked.

"Nope, saved our asses."

Aaron came around to the Impala's window. "Sam, glad you're awake. This is the house of Anna Kirchstein, she used to work with Timmons and Elizabeth here in occult objects and talismans. She said she had a few rooms for us."

"Awesome," Dean said. "Maybe I can sleep without undead zombie freaks trying to kill me."

"You have the other stone?" Aaron asked.

"Yeah," Sam said. "It's in my jean pocket. Which I guess is in my bag."

"Good, we're giving them to Adam."

"Why?"

"Because he's made of clay and nearly indestructible. Till we can figure out how to destroy them, he'll guard them."

"Can we sleep?" Dean asked.

Aaron shrugged. "I think we should see what they know first. Just in case."


	5. No Mercy

Anna Kirchstein was a tall woman with a dark complexion, warm eyes, and a stunning disposition. Her house seemed to be white picket fence until she led them down to the basement. All Dean could think was that this woman put Bela Talbot to shame.

"You're on our side, right?" Sam asked, as if picking up on Dean's thoughts. 

"I deal in occult objects. Mostly locking them away, but some of them are powerful protection artifacts," she said. "Admittedly I make a profit, which makes me a capitalist. Are you all right with that?"

Sam shrugged. "I guess."

Aaron spoke up, "Anna worked with my grandfather. I was worried she might be next."

"She wasn't on that list you gave us," Sam complained.

"No, I've touched base with her before, right after I met up with you two for the first time. We should be safe here, given the circumstances," Aaron replied.

"Great, maybe someone here can tell us what the hell is going on," Dean said mildly. 

"A splinter group from the Thule Society, a faction if you will, has been targeting people who opposed the Thule. Trying to win their way back into the fold," Anna said.

"You sound certain," Dean said.

"After the attacks on Goren and Lizzy here, I became certain," she said. "I believe they're resurrecting members of their faction, using the bodies of their enemies."

"Why? They could just grab a stiff anywhere these days," Sam said. 

"Not a stiff with fingerprints of someone who's testified against you, or who killed you," she said. "They don't just want to kill these people. There wanna destroy their legacy."

"Okay, I get that, but, there's gotta be a necromancer, right? At least one pulling the strings. So, who is it?" Dean asked. "We find him, waste him, then destroy the stones, that should put the spirits away, right?"

"Except, I don't know who it is. This faction, they call themselves the Pharaoh's Magicians because they stole their ideas and spells from the Ancient Egyptians. They were wiped out by the Thule a decade ago."

"The Thule? I thought – "

"They are a faction, a sect, originally they tried to take over, then break away," Anna said. "These men didn't care if you were white or blond or German. It made them unpopular to the Thule. The only guess I have is that someone decided to revive them."

"Aaron, be straight with us," Sam said. "How long has this been going on?"

Aaron swallowed. "I told you, about a week."

Sam's stare broke him. 

"Okay, more like three months, but I didn't know. I didn't have the pieces to put together."

"Three months," Dean repeated. "Around the time those weird porcupine warriors started their shindig."

"Porcupines? What?" Aaron said.

"It doesn't matter," Anna interrupted. "They're regaining their ranks, destroying lives, and targeting people with special objects. Clearly they've got bigger plans, and we need to stop them."

"Couldn't agree with you more," Dean said. "But we've go the same problem: who is the necromancer?"

"We can't be sure," Aaron said, "But Liz had an idea."

"Ah, what's that?" Sam asked.

"They went after you two, not me or Adam. Right? So we figured, maybe, they were looking for the stones."

"Bait, I like it," Dean said. 

"But they already tried to get it from you and failed," Liz said.

"Meaning?" Sam prompted.

"They'll be sending something else after us, and we don't know what," Aaron said lamely.

"Well, then I guess it's a good thing me and Sam are here," Dean said. "Because while we can't take down super undead ghosts, but we've got something for just about everything else."

 

Dodge and Kevin seemed terrible. They didn't eat. They didn't drink. Sleep was fevered and broken.

"I can try to – "

"No," they both said. 

"You saved them," Cas said in comfort to Dodge. "Dean and Sam are safe."

"Something's wrong. They've gotten in the middle of a battle. And it's not the usual kind," Dodge said, fumbling with every word.

"What do you mean?" Cas asked.

"It's like – when our agents got in the crosshairs between two rival gangs. That's what it feels like to me."

Kevin emitted a little, "Huh."

Silence. 

"I think I know what's going on," Kevin said. "Cas, you gotta go now, get them out of there. Right now."

"What?"

"Dodge is right, this isn't a battle between good and evil. This is a battle between one kind of evil and another. They're vying for power. And they don't care who they killed. Sam and Dean are stuck in a two-sided fight, and they're screwed."

"That's why the vision we both had made no sense!" Dodge said. "Because it's not about Sam or Dean at all."

Castiel closed his eyes and focused on Dean's GPS tracker. With a flick of his wings – 

Nothing happened.

"Go!" Dodge said. "Go now!"

Cas focused. Dean was somewhere in Delaware, but he couldn't pinpoint him. He tried Sam. He, too, was somewhere in Delaware. 

"I can't go to them."

"You mean because of the tagging on their ribs?" Dodge asked. "I thought you had a way around that?"

"I do, but I can't teleport to them. I – I'm blocked. I can't even tell you where they are."

Dodge scrambled for the phone.

"Cas," Kevin said. "If you can't get there, what about someone else?"

"Another angel?" he asked. "No – "

"Anyone else? Anyone who wouldn't kill them – "

"I - ", Cas stumbled with panicking picking up, "I don't know - "

 

Sam spoke into his phone, "I'll call you back." He hung up. "That was Dodge."

"Yeah? She see something?" Dean asked.

"She said Cas can't teleport to us. Something is blocking him."

Dean laughed. "That can't be right. The last thing that had the mojo to stop Cas it was – "

"Eve," Sam completed his sentence.

"Eve?" Lizzy said. "Who's she?"

"She's the one who created werewolves, vampires, that kind of thing," Dean said casually. "And we shoved her ass back into Purgatory three years ago. She's gone."

"Yeah, but something as powerful as she is in this area."

"Then we gank it," Dean dismissed.

"Dodge said this is warzone," Sam said to Anna and Elizabeth, "and we're just gonna be collateral damange. Wanna tell me what that means?"

"I don't know," Elizabeth said. When Sam's facial expression made it clear he didn't believe her, she added, "The man I loved just died. Okay? I've told you everything I know."

Anna added, "A necromancer can scramble signals – "

"Castiel is an angel," Dean said. "You know of a necromancer who can disturb that?"

"No," Anna said. 

"It doesn't matter," the golem said. "I can sense them approaching."

"Them? Them who? Undead?"

"No," Adam replied. "But I think the necromancer is among them." 

"We need to ditch this plan," Dean said. "Anna, take Liz here and use some major protective object in your car, and run. Aaron, you and Adam get ready to make a break for it."

"What about you two?" Aaron asked. "I'm not abandoning you."

"We're gonna target the necromancer. Whatever else he's got with him, he can still be killed," Sam replied. "And then we burn his body."

Elizabeth and Anna didn't need any more convincing. Anna's car roared away from the backwoods field.

 

Neumann spotted one car zooming away, but he couldn't stick a tracking spell on it. Whoever they were, he'd get to them eventually. The golem, its master, and the two annoyingly proficient agents remained out in the open. He had to focus his efforts on them.

"Go ahead," he said to his co-captain. "Send in your forces, Vidar."

Vidar smiled. He signaled to his crew silently, and they moved in. "You and I," Vidar said, "should wait a few minutes before moving in. Lovely view up here."

 

Dean and Sam stood in trine with Adam the golem. Aaron stood in the middle of them, unsure of what to do. Each Winchester loaded up a shotgun. 

The first wave came streaking out of nowhere, as if they popped up from the ground. Bang! Pop! The Winchesters made their shots count, but by the teeth, they were up against vampires – 

"Decapitation!" Sam shouted. "That's the only way."

Dean had no trouble with his machete, and Adam didn't need one, his bare hands were enough. Sam, on the other hand, went down and was forced to slash and cut to get to his opponent's head. 

"I don't like this," Dean said. "Since when do monsters hang out with Nazi necromancer asshats?"

Another wave of vampires. Aaron made a good shot with a gun, but he'd never been in this line of danger before. "I need a knife," he said weakly. "If I'm gonna survive this one."

Sam handed off a long hunting knife. 

"I see him," Dean said, pointing up to the edge of the hill. "That's gotta be him. He's signaling."

"It is," the golem said. 

"Give me the stones," Aaron said. "Then take him down, Adam. Whatever it takes. Burn his body."

"Woah, wait, you said – " Sam said.

Aaron cut him off, "I know." Then he said to Adam, "Give me the stones."

Adam didn't question it; he handed off the stones and left.

The second wave attacked. Aaron wasn't very good with a knife, but he did surprisingly well avoiding the assault and providing cover fire. 

"Six vampires," Dean said as he decapitated another. "This is so not good. Dodge mention anything specific?"

"She said we were in some kind of warzone," Sam replied, backing up to touch sides with Dean and Aaron. "Forces vying for power. That kind of thing."

"Fantastic," Dean said. "Just like old times"

"You did this before?" Aaron asked.

"Only during the Apocalypse," Sam said. "Don't worry, we averted it."

"I think that makes me feel better," Aaron said, shakily grabbing at his gun.

The screams from the hilltop drew Dean's attention. "Looks like Adam's got your necromancer," he said.

They all relaxed. "We'll find a way to destroy the stones. My grandfather wrote about them," Aaron said. "Thank you for saving my life, again."

"Don't thank us just yet," Sam said. 

Neumann's neck snapped under the golem's hands. As per instruction, Adam took whatever the man had on him and lit his remains on fire. He turned back and saw just how bad the situation was. 

Across the field, easily a dozen individuals collected behind one man. Maybe the necromancer was just some kind of bait or a culling tactic, and his rabbi was out in the open, completely vulnerable. 

"RUN!" Adam bellowed. "RUN!"

The golem ran down to them, but even his feet couldn't fly. 

"Crap, crap, crap!" Dean said, seeing the running golem. "He must see something we don't."

"That," Aaron said, pointing out the small cluster of someones rushing toward them in formation.

"Aaron, get down," Sam said, "behind that rock."

"No, I told you – "

"You're a good shot," Sam said, handing off their shotguns. "Make your hits count, and don't hit us. You're gonna cover us, you understand?"

"Yeah," he replied. "I've never done this before."

"Awesome," Dean said, taking out his handgun. "Think they're all vamps?"

"We're gonna find out."

Bang! Aaron took a shot at one of them; its head exploded. 

"Ho-now! Awesome shot."

Aaron clearly didn't agree, but he swallowed hard and aimed for another. Bang! This one took the hit in the shoulder and went down. 

Bang! Pop! Pop! Bang! The Winchesters fired at the onslaught, but it wasn't any use. They dropped only two more before they were in range, and each one of them was vamped out and carrying a machete.

Sam had better luck with his long knives this time, but even he couldn't deal with three vampires at once. Adam joined the fray, finally, just as Dean was knocked on his ass, bleeding rivers from his right leg.

Aaron kept it together. Pop! Another head came off. He wanted to vomit, but he couldn't – he had to keep shooting. Bang! Bang! Bang!

That last shot got something's attention; it came straight for him, and Adam intervened only in time to spray Aaron with blood.

"It's no use," Vidar announced from afar. "You're mortal, like my old friend there. I'll call a hundred more if I must. You ought to stop now. You can join me."

Dean wanted to cut that guy's head off, but he could barely move. The six remaining vampires regrouped; Adam and Sam couldn't hold off a half dozen of them. They closed in - 

Fire and ash filled the air, and a young woman erupted into the field. She palmed two of the vampire's faces, and again fire and ash were everywhere. Their two bodies dropped, completely unblemished and unconscious.

Crack-snap! Sam decapitated one, and Adam dropped a fourth. Kuravi unceremoniously finished the last two, who fell to the ground next to their brethren.

"Who are you?" she said shortly to Aaron and the golem.

"They're with us," Dean said begrudgingly. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Vidar's scream filled the air, drawing their attention. Someone stood next to him with a hand over his head, and his eyes slowly burnt out, then flame churned up. Two lackeys flanked the man (or maybe the angel, Dean and Sam couldn't be sure). Even from a distance, their black eyes were evident.

"What the hell?" Sam said. "Demons?"

"Let's not find out," Kuravi commented mildly. "Come here," she said, grabbing at all four of them."

Ash, fire, and heat. They were gone.

 

Aaron remained shell shocked. They followed him and his golem out to the western edge of Kentucky, suffering Kuravi for the car ride because Castiel had insisted on it.

They saw Aaron off.

"You didn't kill anyone," Dean said. "No one human, okay? You did the right thing."

"Yeah, I know, but – I know this is a war, I just didn't know what kind of war. I never thought I'd have to shoot or anything."

"It was my error," Adam said. "I am to protect you. You should never have had to hurt anyone."

"You were following orders," Aaron replied. "So the error was mine."

The Winchesters were impressed by how far the young man had come. "You might be on someone else's radar," Sam said. "So maybe keep a low profile for a few weeks?"

"And call us if something like this comes up," Dean said. "Men of Letters and the Judah Initiative are allies, don't forget it."

"I won't," Aaron replied before returning to his car. 

Kuravi remained in the back seat of the Impala.

"You know what, we're good," Dean said. "We're fine."

"I can see that," she said. "But the fact remains that demons, plural, are back on earth and working with an angel more powerful than Castiel."

Dean bit his lip. "You think it's Lucifer?" he asked.

"Dunno," she admitted. "But he was cleaning something up. Witches often draw power from demons."

"I thought necromancers worked with dead people," Sam said. "Do they need demons?"

Kuravi shrugged. "Maybe that's why the demons are killing them. No living witches that exist beyond demonic control? The next generation of witches would have to rely on Hell for power."

"You seem to be in the know," Sam said mildly.

"Vampires were working with a sorcerer," she said. "That's unusually. Demons and even witches don't normally ally themselves with monsters like that. They don't have to."

Sam fumbled a bit. "So, where do you stand in all of this?" he asked. "Are you on our side?"

Kuravi blinked. "I'm a pacifist. I don't fight. When it comes to war, I am on no one's side."

"You pulled us out of the fire," Dean said. 

"Castiel asked me to," she replied curtly.

"You seemed okay with violence back there," Sam said.

"I used no violence."

"Really? You didn't roast up any vampires?" Dean asked. "'Cause that's what it looked like."

"Did it? Is that why their bodies were unmarked?" she asked. "I didn't kill them. I healed them."

"Uh, sorry, what?" Sam asked. 

"I returned them to humanity. Those four are no longer vampires," she replied.

"No way," Dean said. "No one can do that."

"I am the antithesis of monsters in a very literal sense. If anyone can heal monstrosity, it's me."

"So, what, something you can't heal attacks you, you do nothing?" Dean asked. "What kind of sense does that make?"

Kuravi huffed, "I can always run."

"Why? You must be able to destroy monsters just as much as heal them. If you are their opposite, don't you want to kill them?" Sam asked.

She shook her head. "I am a pacifist."

"So what? God made you a pacifist, and that's it?"

"No, I was made like you. Neutral. I was given a choice, just like the Leviathan. I could be their adversary, their opponent, and make it the goal of my existence to wipe out their race – "

"Sounds good," Dean commented.

"Or I could decide that I was something better. Someone who stops violence. Someone who heals. So I made that choice. It's who I am."

"How's that been working out for you? Weren't you locked away for eons?" Dean asked. "You can't tell me being a pacifist is the answer."

"You are mortal," she replied. "Your lives are finite. If I had made my life into nothing more than killing all the Leviathan, what would I do when they were all dead? Immortals can't define themselves by their enemies. Not if they wish to survive them," Kuravi replied. 

"I can understand that," Sam said, "but you must have been in situations where you've lost someone because you didn't fight. Haven't you?"

"Tell me that you have lost no one from your lives because you are warriors. Tell me you never have left anyone behind to protect their lives while you continue on your mission," Kuravi said, sharp and keen. When neither brother replied, she added, "I have lost much, but so have you. Being a warrior, it appears, is not 'the answer' either. Maybe there is no answer at all."

Dean didn't like the image she was reflecting back at him. "I guess not," he said. "Like you said, we're mortal. We don't mind being small like you said."

"I never said you were small," she replied. Fire and ash – she was gone. 

"Great, Dean, why not piss off all our allies?" Sam spat.

"Allies? That bitch had us release who-knows-what from the bowels of the earth. Don't think I've forgotten that."

"Come on, we'd better get home."


End file.
